The first thing I did on Wednesday of last week was load every precious belonging my grandparents ever owned-- eighty-year-old baby pictures, love letters rubbed soft, quilts made from the christening gowns of relatives long gone-- into a 2001 Lincoln Mercury. At which time I realized that if I dared back said Mercury out of the driveway with the intent to find wireless internet, I would either immediately spontaneously combust or be carjacked.
So imagine my horror when I learned that I was the one who had to drive that car from Columbus, Georgia to Charleston, South Carolina. I'm not kidding, I would rather have been in charge of a van full of fresh donation kidneys and old dynamite.
That was a hard week. More later.
(I had a lot of problems with spam while I was gone so I'm taking comments off for a while until I can fix it.)
